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Strike At A Full Moon

Poetry By: Love Reaper
Poetry


Tags: Hate, Death, Numb


Dare fight me at my full capacity.


Submitted:Jun 12, 2012    Reads: 8    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


There is no simplicity to this complex theory because it is mere fact.
Oh you expected me to cry and beg like your dying children on the back of my thigh?
I would slap you to make you see that you no longer exist in my realm, but your reality is still Adventure Time or maybe Tom & Jerry, but this is no cat and mouse game.
You thought I would hang around like the blunt you exhaled from your mouth telling me you didn't need me, yet the smoke you blew told all tales.
I laughed from the contact that vaporized my mind.

At first I was disgraced by my actions, molesting a boy as young as you, but you're a demon inside a boy's body; I regret nothing.
Oh and you can hide the tail between your legs, I've already muffled you, trust me I don't expect you to enjoy what's next.
Can you hear me?
Or do I have to get down on your level?
Get down on my knees how you like and drag you with me.
See I've made my mark, my piss won't be out pissed by any other bitch.

Coward. You've got a bigger pussy than me, no need to shave it, it's just as big and messy.
You're an ignorant little slut.
I smite the things out to smite me, consider yourself out smitten.
Oh, so I'm your pretty little stalker aren't I?
But what could my purpose be to follow a deadbeat?
Can't beat a dandelion with a swift of a hand even if you hit directly on it.
Little runt your house may be made of bricks, but I brought the dynamite.
Boom.





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